


Flesh Into Blossom

by Mari_who



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Erotica, F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23573083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mari_who/pseuds/Mari_who
Summary: Touching you I catch midnightas moon fires set in my throatI love you flesh into blossomI made youand take you madeinto me..-Audre Lord, "Recreation"
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 169





	Flesh Into Blossom

Standing was the hardest part. 

It required careful planning. Feet placed wide and secure. A hand on the back of the chair, for leverage. Deep breaths. Steady mind. Rocking back and forth, once, twice, building momentum. Then pushing, straightening the knees, trying not to rely on those core muscles that were supporting other things right now.

With a grunt of effort and a little wobble at the end, Persephone was back on her feet.

"Don't try to get up! I'll be right there!" Hades called from the kitchen.

She bit her lip, looking over to make sure she wasn't in his line of sight yet, and carefully sat back down.

He liked to be helpful. And she liked to let him help, so.

She had known a lot about the process of having children, before they found out she was having one herself. There had been books, and classes, and videos to watch. All of them very informative about what bodily changes she could expect. Terribly, _graphically_ informative. But all the information in the world couldn't prepare you, she thought, for the actual experience of carrying a growing child within you, and maneuvering through life that way. Of how hard it was, for example, to get out of a damn chair when you couldn't even see your own feet.

Two more months, she thought, and sighed. If only she wasn't so _tiny_. It felt like the baby was bigger than she was.

Hades, glowing with domestic happiness, hustled out of the kitchen. The dishwasher hummed and sloshed industriously behind him. "Ready?" He asked, putting a gentle hand between her shoulder blades. 

"Yes yes," she said, and kissed his chin. 

"All right, sweetness, up we go…" Bending low, he slipped his other arm behind her knees and scooped her easily out of the chair. She closed her eyes and clung to him for a moment as the movement made her stomach lurch. "All right?"

"Yes, just...stand still for a sec," she said.

He stood there with his tiny, rounded wife in his arms. He would be content to stand there forever. And she would be content to be held forever, but as the nausea eased, another pressing biological urge made itself known.

"Ugh… upstairs, now, please. Your son is standing on my bladder."

Hades chuckled and made his way upstairs, trying to hurry without jostling her too much. She gritted her teeth and held on, and they managed to get there in time, for which she was profoundly grateful. Once or twice they hadn't. And despite years of loving marriage _and_ a completely reasonable reason, it was still embarrassing to pee yourself in front of your spouse.

(He had been very kind about cleaning up afterward, though, both her and the floor.)

"I need a shower," she called into the other room once the necessities had been dealt with. "Do you mind helping?"

He came and leaned in the doorway, barefoot and shirtless already. "I absolutely do not mind," he said. "Stay there, I'll get the water ready."

"I'm just so tired today," she went on, as he leaned in to start the shower and adjust the temperature. "He's sucking up all my energy."

"Honey, take the maternity leave," he cajoled. It had the feel of an oft-repeated discussion. "You need your rest. The Underworld won't fall apart without you for a while. I mean, eventually, of course, but…"

She blew a juicy, derisive raspberry at him.

He sighed, and let the subject go. For now. "Shower's ready."

She slipped off the house dress - comfy floral fabric, roomy, a gift from her mother - and padded into the shower. The water was blissfully warm. Hades had brought builders in where they found out she was pregnant and updated the whole house for her comfort, and the walk-in shower, wider now, sported handrails and a bench along one wall. She sank down with a sigh of relief and let the water beat down on her.

Hades stepped in behind her and pulled the glass door shut. 

"Not too hot?" He took a few bottles off the little shelf, and her plastic net scrubby cloth, and sat them and himself next to her. "Turn a bit, I'll get your hair."

"Not too hot. It's perfect." Obligingly, she turned and tilted her head back; and soon the humid air filled with the scent of her shampoo, clean and floral. Hades began working it through her wet locks, scrubbing gently, as always surprising her with how gentle his big hands could be. 

"Oh, bliss, my very own scalp masseur," she said, her voice humming with pleasure. "How many hours do you think you can do that?"

"Quite a few, but we'll run out of hot water."

"Damn. Who runs this place?" 

"Anyway," he said with a smile in his voice. "There's the whole rest of you to wash."

"That is true." She glanced at him over one shoulder, making her eyes over the top sultry, and he laughed _and_ blushed, which she counted as a double win.

He took the hand-held showerhead and rinsed the soap from her hair, gentle but thorough, and worked the conditioner in the same way. Then the scrubby cloth, full of luscious bubbles, was applied to her back, and she moaned out loud with relief as he worked his way over her aching muscles.

"That good?" He asked, teasing. "Has my bedroom game been wrong this whole time?"

"Shush you." She flicked water over her shoulder at him, giggling. "YOUR SON has gotten so heavy that I'm using muscles I didn't know I had, just carrying him around."

The scrubbing massage slowed. Then his arms slipped around her, pulling her soapy back against his chest, his big hands spread gently over her child-swollen belly.

"My son," he murmured into her ear, and there were complexities in his voice that took her breath away; love, pride, a gentle possessiveness, fear, awe. "Our son."

She turned more, as best she could, and kissed her man.

At first it was just a response to those complex and tender emotions, a sweet closed-mouth kiss of love; but she had never, ever, been able to keep their kisses chaste. She opened her mouth against his, letting him feel her tongue, her heat, and he made a soft guttural sound in reply, and let her in.

Heat rose between them, simmering slow but inevitable. His soapy hands slid up over her breasts, which had grown in the last month or two, fat and sensitive, ready for the baby that was coming. She hissed in a breath when he found her nipples and gently pressed them between his fingers, and he pulled back from the kiss an inch or so.

"Did I hurt?" He asked, soothing with a gentle fingertip caress, circling, slippery with lather. 

"Noo…" she mumbled, and rested her head back against him, nuzzling the clean shaven side of his throat. "Good...but not any harder, please, they're so tender…"

He pressed a loving kiss to her forehead. "We should finish getting you clean, and then getting you into bed," he whispered. She frowned, a little moue of disappointment that he kissed away. "Sweetness, be patient. The bed will be more comfortable. And safer. Much less likely to end up on the floor."

"You like it on the floor," she muttered with ill grace, and sat up straight, arms raised so he could wash beneath. "... _I_ like it on the floor…"

He chuckled. "Not right now, you wouldn't."

He finished washing her with gentle but entirely proper attentions, no matter how she flirted or pouted. Thwarted, the coals of her arousal still smoldered, but she couldn't deny that she yearned for their bed.

For one thing, her ass was getting sore as hell on that bench. 

He rinsed her, brought her a massive fluffy towel, helped her dry, rubbed lotion onto her back and elbows and tired feet. She could have fallen asleep right there, left him to carry her to bed, tuck her in tenderly and get himself to sleep too, but she was restless, antsy.

"Bed now?" She asked once he had put all the bath things away. She knew her voice was lower, throaty with need.

Hades looked at her, smiling a little. He laid his hand gently along the side of her face, and she hummed and rubbed her cheek against his palm like a cat.

"It is still safe?" He asked, love and hunger and worry in his voice.

"The doctor said it was fine until it got uncomfortable for me…" she turned a little and kissed his fingertips one at a time. 

"You'll tell me if it is?"

"Promise." She bit his index finger, lightly, and smiled at his unsteady inhale. "So take me to bed already."

And he did.

Bed was a heaven of clean, crisp, cool sheets against her damp, hot skin. She just luxuriated in it for a moment, utterly relaxed, at peace, complete. She beamed up at Hades as he climbed in behind her, all midnight-colored against the pale bedcovers.

"I love you," she told him, letting it shine forth in her eyes and resonate in her words. 

"And I, you," he said, "my goddess…my life."

Reaching out, she pulled him down to her kiss; and she was filled with love and ardor, as full as she was with their child. She felt dizzy from his mouth already and his hand spread so broad and strong over her stomach. When they broke apart, both were gasping for breath.

"Turn on your side," he husked into her ear, "facing away from me."

Shivers at _that_ tone in his voice. She obeyed, rolling (with his help) onto her side, and immediately felt lighter with the baby's weight shifted off of her back. 

Hades came up behind her, spooning, his chest warm and solid, his cock erect between them. He slid an arm under her head, pillowing her, and the other hand went roaming over her torso, approaching and then retreating from her breasts, teasing. He pressed hot kisses along the side of her throat, where her pulse jumped and pounded.

"Hadeeees…" 

His chuckle was throaty, deep; it rumbled against her skin. She pushed herself back against him in frank retaliation, rocking her hips, grinding her ass against his erection, and the laugh turned into a lustful growl.

He pulled her back and slid one arm down further, and then her breasts were in his hands; he squeezed gently, the soft flesh pillowing out between his fingers, and nipped at her ear. "Careful, _wife_ ," he told her. "You're testing my self-control."

With torturous tenderness he captured her nipples and rolled them, tugging ever so gently; their swollen sensitivity made her gasp, rocking against him deliriously. "Oh please," she said, weak-voiced and trembling. 

No more teasing him. It was too much. 

"Please - that feels so much _stronger_ now, fuck I could almost come from just that - Hades please, I need it - I need to come - "

He moved them both somehow, a positional shift she was no longer in any position to understand, somehow him lower and she higher; his legs bent behind hers, like sitting in his lap but sideways, and his hand was cradling and lifting her leg and then - and then -

The fiercely hot press of his cock against her, pushing and sliding randomly for a moment before finding her entrance; she felt herself stretch and open, filled to the brim, his fat length twitching inside her; his primal growl of pleasure in her ear; and she came, long pulsing waves as he began rocking in and out, cradling and loving her, making her his.

"Sweet Kore, so sweet," he mumbled against her hot flesh. "Give me another."

Reaching around - Fates bless those long arms - he found the throbbing bud that was her swollen clit, slick wet under his fingertips, and toyed with it while they fucked, rolling, gliding the pads of his index and middle fingers over it. She twisted and writhed in his arms, feeling the lightning bolts of sensation burn down her inner thighs, her calves, into her feet. Unbearable. Impossible. 

He held onto her, moving with her and into her as she kicked and squealed, and finally tipped over the edge; her climax, rippling and grasping around him, triggered his, coming hard inside her and adding his cries to hers; falling into that brilliant explosion of pleasure together.

Senseless, boneless, they lay tangled together in the dark.

Love, they each thought.

"I'm going to need another shower," Persephone mumbled.

They were both asleep before he could reply.


End file.
